A Mix of Xenosaga, Dragonball Z, and Legaia 2
by gamegirl07
Summary: Watch as a story of friendship, family, and action unfolds. Each character will learn something different about themselves. In need of a complete and major revamp. Since my writing has matured to a certain extent, this sounds almost ridiculous. Not to mention the awkward crossover part. Expect a rewrite on a later date.
1. The Beginning

Fanfiction: A Mix of Xenosaga, Dragonball Z, and Legaia 2

Chapter 1

Young Trunks walked home from school, bored. He hated school, for one thing, and he had just been assigned a project. Sure he could ask his mother, Bulma, to do it for him and get an automatic A, but Trunks didn't want other people getting jealous. He wanted to eliminate the gap he had with all the other children at school. He wanted them to stop avoiding him because of his wealthy mom and his rather aggressive father, Vegita.

Trunks pulled out the house key from his pocket and unlocked the door. He opened the door and walked through the hallway. Soon he arrived in the living room where Bulma was on the couch watching TV.

"Hi, Trunks, how was school?"

"Same as usual, Mom."

He walked upstairs and went into his room. He sat upon his bed thinking. It was usually the first thing he did each day after school. He would think of his life, of his father's training regarding his saijin origins, his mother's worry for his apparent loneliness, and lastly, his homework.

Then suddenly the phone rang, startling him from his routine meditation. Bulma, who was nearest to the phone, answered it as it rang for the third time.

"It's for you, Trunks!" she shouted from downstairs. "A boy named Lang wants to talk to you!"

Trunks grew excited despite his obvious boredom. He nearly tripped down the flight of stairs as he flew down (as in running fast not actually flying). Bulma gave him the phone smiling. It was the first time anyone, other than Vegita and herself, had called the house for him. She walked back to her couch, not wanting to miss her show.

"I didn't think you would actually call. No ones ever does when I ask them to."

"That's cuz their idiots. Anyway, I called because I didn't want to do that science project or hear my sister's mouth."

"You have a sister? I have one too."

"What's her name?" says Lang.

"Bura, and she looks just like my mom."

"Strange. I would say the same for my sister. Her name's Maya."

"Looks like we have somethin' in common," says Trunks.

"Yeah," said Lang simply.

"Hey, you wanna come over?"

"Um… well…" Lang thought for a moment. "My sister will have to take me. Ah man, then I'll have t hear her mouth. This better be worth it, Trunks."

"So are you?"

Lang sighed, "Alright."

**Chibi Trunks**


	2. A Friendship Made

A Friendship Made-2

Maya and Lang arrived at Bulma's house. Maya was of long silky light brown hair and bluish green eyes and Lang was of shoulder length black hair and black eyes. They looked the complete opposite of each other; one dark, one bright. Bulma greeted them warmly at the door. Lang instantly established the fact that Maya was his sister not his mother. Bulma shrugged at this. She had been told by Trunks that his new friend would come with his sister. She asked them both to come in, but Maya declined; she had somewhere else to go.

"See ya, Lang!" Maya shouted before she got back into the car, "Hope you have a good time!"

Lang hated showing and especially seeing unnecessary emotions. For example, impulsive delightedness. Lang's cheeks turned red as a result of this; he was so embarrassed.

Lang and Trunks was outside in the backyard sitting and talking. Lang had bought up the subject of movies.

"You watched that movie 'Never 2 Big'?"

"No," said Trunks, "I don't really watch movies."

"Really? I thought with all the money you had, you would have a good collection of DVD's"

"Well, I have other things to do."

"Like what?" asked Lang as if watching movies was the only thing you could do.

"I have to train with my father after I finish my homework and when I finish the training, I'm too tired to do anything else but sleep."

"Sounds very strenuous. You ever get a rest, you know, a free day?"

"Only time that happens is when I'm sick or when my mother insists on it. Besides, my father hates slackers and I want to prove to him that I'm not one of them."

"Hm…Wow."

"He's like that by nature, you know."

"At least you have someone who likes pushing you to your limits, wanting you to do more than you first imagined."

Trunks shrugged, "It's not easy."

Suddenly Trunks felt selfish for, what he perceived, his bragging. So he asked Lang about his father.

"Oh him?" said Lang, "Mom said that he left her, he just disappeared. She has no pictures of him; she won't even tell me his name. So what I'm tryna say is; I don't have a father. I live with my sister and mother."

Trunks was confused, "No pictures, you don't know his name? He could be anybody!"

"You know, when you put it like that, it's a rather depressive situation. But it's never bothered me before. I just… accepted it."

A long silence followed Lang's statement and he began to feel uncomfortable. Lang hated talking about his father. He looked to the darkening sky which matched his mood. Trunks looked at Lang seeing in his eyes the sadness, the anger, the emptiness.

"Well, it's about that time when I have to…"

Trunks was interrupted when he heard his father yelling his name.

"Trunks!" he called.

Then Vegita came into view as he rounded the corner of the house.

"Why didn't you answer me, boy?"

Lang looked at Vegita and their eyes locked.

"Who is this?" asked Vegita.

"He's my friend Lang," said Trunks.

"I was just leaving," said Lang.

"Hey wait, can't you train with us?"

"No," said Vegita who was beginning to get irritated.

"I don't want to. If the rumors are right, I'll probably get myself killed," said Lang.

Trunks didn't want him to leave so soon, but he would have to.

"How are you gonna get home?" asked Trunks suddenly.

Lang thought about this but he didn't have an immediate answer.

"Didn't your sister have something to do?"

"Yeah."

"And didn't you say your mom couldn't even take you here?"

"Yeah, she's…out."

"So no one's at your house. Even if you were to walk home you'd be the only one there."

"Yeah…"

"So you'll have to stay here."

Vegita saw where this conversation was going. He didn't like it.

"How _were_ you supposed to get home?" asked Trunks restating his primary question.

"I wasn't supposed to be here, I was told to go with my sister since my mom wouldn't be at home to watch me. Then you called. Maya decided she would drop me off here and then she would come back at 6."

Vegita could already see a sly smile forming on Trunks face. Trunks could tell that Vegita's anger was rising.

"I can wait, you know, with your mom," said Lang who didn't want to bump heads with Trunks's father.

"You _want_ to do that?" asked Trunks.

"Sure," said Lang as if he just made the decision.

"Yeah, you do that," said Vegita whose voice was full of contempt.

Lang brought his hands up defensively as if Vegita was going to hit him (I wouldn't put it past him) and went back inside through the back door. Trunks and Vegita was left alone.

Trunks followed his father to where they would have their training session.

"You didn't have to do that," said the irritated Trunks.

"Do what?"

"Insensitive," muttered Trunks.

"What did you say, boy?"

"Nothin'"

Trunks decided to be quiet for the rest of the way.

"Listen, boy, you don't NEED friends. They'll just get in the way."

"But you don't understand. In fact, you will NEVER understand. You don't know how it feels!"

Trunks was on the verge of tears, but he would never let such weakness be shown to his father. Vegita was now face to face with his son and the only reason Trunks still lived was because Bulma was there. She would be devastated to learn that her husband had killed their son and Vegita hated to see her sad. So instead of doing what he wanted, he continued on. As he was about to open the door to the training chambers, Trunks could not hold in his last comment.

"You've never had friends, have you?"

Vegita turned to face him. "It is a weakness, boy! They will only slow you down."

"You're wrong," said Trunks.

Trunks said this with such smugness that Vegita's anger finally got the better of him. His hand came up quick making Trunks unaware of what was happening until he was knocked down to the ground. He got back up slowly in a daze. He could feel the red fluid running down the side of his face. The long slash that had been left across his face was very deep. Enough to make any regular child start crying, but Trunks didn't. Even now he was trying to prove his worth to his father. Trunks instead ran his index finger over the wound. He tasted the thick substance that was on his finger. Just as he knew, the taste was full of iron. He looked at his father now with a half smile.

At that point, Vegita thought his son a little crazy. What kind of person tastes their own blood and then have a satisfied look afterwards? Unless…that's what he wanted him to do. Trunks _wanted_ Vegita to hit him. Then finally, Vegita understood, if Bulma found out…

"Vegita!" yelled Bulma curtly from across the backyard.

It was as if she had known what was happening, but she had instead come to fuss at the lack of hospitality Vegita was showing to their guest.

Trunks had planed this from the beginning ever since Lang had decided to stay with Bulma. He had known how to trigger his anger without seeming so obvious about it. When he attacked Trunks, Vegita had fallen right into his trap. Trunks knew that Bulma would come out some time after she realized their guest would have to wait for Trunks to be finished with his training. Bulma knew that, afterwards, Trunks would be too tired to do anything and Vegita would be the blame for ruining Lang's visit. Because of this knowledge, Trunks made sure after he stood up that the fresh gash would readily visible for Bulma to see.

Vegita was appalled at his son's such decisive thinking, but also was angered greatly for falling for it.

"Vegita, what do you think you're doing?"

She pulled him to the side so that Trunks couldn't hear.

"Lang, his new friend, is waiting patiently in there and he shouldn't be. And to top it off, you felt the need to hit our own son! How dare you!"

"He's using you, Bulma. You're babying him; you're turning him into a spoiled brat!"

"Like you," she retorted. "He wouldn't have to 'use' me if he wasn't so afraid of you. He knew that he couldn't just TELL it to you, what he wanted. You're liable to rip his head off!"

"Is there something wrong with that? If there was no fear, there would be no discipline."

"And there's better ways to administer discipline! Now you go over there and apologize."

"What!"

"You heard me," she said in a dangerously low voice.

"And what makes you think I care?"

"Oh you don't? Then I'll…"

"Okay, fine, woman."

When he turned, Bulma had to add something.

"And tell him that he is exempt from your training for the day and from any other day someone is visiting,"

He grumbled.

Bulma watched as he walked to his son. She couldn't hear what he said, but it didn't much matter to her. She knew that he wouldn't say the two official words for an apology, but to her, it would be close enough.

Trunks's wound was treated and now he wore a long thick bandage on the side of his face that needed to be changed at least twice a day. So much blood had been pouring from it that at first the bandage would be soaked before it was even put on. Lang had stayed the whole time and they conversed until it was six when he had to leave.

The next day they would not see each other in school because Bulma had forced Trunks to stay home so that his wound would heal.

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I hope you liked this chapter. I just had to add agruement btw Bulma and Vegita; it's so cute : ) The next chapter will be even longer!

Can't forget my little pic.

Oh and just in case you don't know who Lang is:


	3. A Proposition

A Proposition-3

Trunks was laid on his bed with his covers on one side and himself on the other. He touched the side of his face. All that was left of the sore was a long scar. He would go to school tomorrow, he suppose, and today he _knew_ he would have to train. He knew his father would work him even harder.

He didn't have anything to do at the moment, so he decided to watch T.V.

He was walking through the hallway when he heard his mom yell his name from her room. When he arrived at the entrance to her room, he saw as Bulma put the phone down.

"I just got off the phone with a young man who 'says' he has breakthrough technology for artificial intelligence."

"Okay, why did you call me?"

"Well the young man is about your age; a little older maybe. Would you say that he was lying?"

"What does he sound like?"

"Well, like any other boy his age. He doesn't sound like a nerd if that's what you mean."

"Then I would say that he's lying."

"Really? I'll just call him back and tell him no dice then."

"Hey wait, can't you go over to his house and see if he's telling the truth?"

Bulma sighed, "It's more complicated than that, son. With something as big as this, I'll have to gather my business associates and have a meeting, but first, I'd have to set a date. And, Trunks, Kindrey is all the way in Missouri; I'd have to wait at least three days before he gets here."

"It sounds complicated."

"It is."

"Why would someone go through that much trouble if it's a lie to begin with?"

"You just don't know, Trunks. I'm head of a very big business; somebody could be trying to make a fool out of me."

"If he's lying and you still have a meeting, he'll be the fool won't he? And what if he's telling the truth? You could be missing out."

"Good point. See, I knew you were the right person to ask. Maybe one day you might take my place in the business."

"Maybe," said Trunks who, at this age, could care less.

Knowing that this was the end of their conversation, he continued on to the living room. He was, however, stopped by his father.

"There's no gettin' away now, boy."

"Don't worry, I _want_ to train with you anyway. I have nothin' better to do."

Vegita was surprised at his son's response. He grew wary because of it.

"C'mon then, boy."

Vegita had Trunks running to the training chambers. Trunks kept his breath calm and easy so as not to tire himself out. When they were inside, Vegita raised the gravitational knob to 120 times the normal gravity. Vegita set him to doing the regular warm up, although Trunks had to do it 30 minutes longer than usual. Then they moved on to fighting skills which could take the better part of three hours. Trunks would first try out his already learned skills on Vegita who would make sure not to use his full strength knowing that he had a lifetime worth of skill and knowledge compared to Trunks. Then Vegita would teach him new elements and skills to winning a fight. After this, he would try it on Vegita. This cycle continued for a while decided to call it quits. Keep in mind that they did this under 120 times the normal gravity. Vegita would change the knob by 20 every two weeks or sooner depending on how he felt. He had done this very thing at this moment forcing Trunks to work even harder. They finished off the training session with blocking tactics which would take another few hours. When Vegita was through with Trunks, Trunks would collapse right outside the chamber door sweating and panting for several long minutes. At this point, his muscles would be weakened and he would have to struggle to even make it past their large backyard and into their house. Then he would rest again in the living room. Moments later you would find him making his way up the stairs and to his room to lie down and then he would instantly fall asleep.

Each day the long trek to his bedroom became easier, but then Vegita would add even more gravity in their training. Then he would be back to where he started.

Trunks was bone tired at this moment lying sprawled on his bed too weak to even pull the covers over himself even though there was a slight chill in the air. There was suddenly a barely perceptible tap on his window. It was a very anxious knock as if the person was scared. After the fifth irritating series of tap, Trunks finally decided to lift his weak body up to the windowsill. He rolled up the blinds and peered into the eyes of his friend Lang. Despite his current condition, he hurriedly lifted the window and the screen.

"What are you doing here!" exclaimed Trunks.

"Mom and my sister got into a _serious_ argument and I didn't want to be any part of it."

"Well, you can stay in my room."

Lang climbed through the window and into Trunks's room.

"How did you even get up here?" asked the incredulous Trunks.

"The trellis."

"Oh."

Trunks closed the screen and the window and rolled the blinds back down again. He fell back onto his bed. Lang sat on the foot of it.

"You look really tired," proclaimed Lang, "Was it the training?"

"Yeah."

"You must have amazing strength to go through that everyday because I would have died already."

"What can I say?" said Trunks lazily, "Imma saijin."

"Isn't your mom human?"

"Yeah."

"So you're also human, right?"

"I guess so," replied Trunks. "Won't your mom know you left?"

"Nah, they're too busy with their own problems."

"I see."

There was silence afterwards, Trunks had already fallen asleep. Only Lang stayed awake, admiring the serenity of the house. There were no sounds of fussing coming from Trunks's parent's room. Trunks's sister was not yelling her lungs out at her mother's insecurity of men. Lang thought about these things to the point of jealously, but he stopped himself right there. It was pointless to feel jealous of something you'll never have; it wastes energy.

Trunks woke up the next morning to find that Lang had went back home before the night was spent. How Lang had found the will to walk two miles to his house in the dead of night was beyond him. Trunks stretched out and yawned. A new day, he thought, another day of the same thing. He climbed off the bed and nearly ran into Bura as he was going to the bathroom.

"Hey, watch it; you're going to ruin my pjs."

Trunks rolled his eyes. He would have liked his sister more if she wasn't so prissy.

She walked past him irritated with his response. He went to the bathroom, took a shower, brushed his teeth and hair, and then put on his clothes, socks, and shoes. He brought downstairs his hoodie and book bag to the living room couch where it would be easy access when he had to go outside to wait for the bus.

He walked into the kitchen and grabbed the milk and cereal and placed it on the dining room table. He made another trip into the kitchen and took out a bowl from the cabinet and a spoon from the drawer.

Then suddenly, the room darkened. Trunks looked up surprised, but he could see nothing but the deep blackness that seemed to surround him. He stood up, but he found that he was already doing so. Then Vegita appeared in front of him.

"Father?" asked Trunks.

But he knew immediately that this man wasn't the father he remembered. There was true evil in his menacing eyes and his aura seemed to project fear beyond imagining, it made Trunks shiver despite his natural courage.

"Father?" he asked again in a tinier voice.

"Hmph. Can't you see for yourself, boy? I am not your father!"

Trunks shrank away a little; he had sounded worse than his father. "Who are you!" cried Trunks back despite his fear.

"King Vegita, boy! The King of all saijins!"

His voice was full of pride and indignation. Trunks immediately came to the conclusion that this man was his grandfather; this man was related to him. Realization struck Trunks fast, but he did not dare let surprise or any other kind of emotion reveal itself to King Vegita.

"What do you want from me!" yelled Trunks back.

He knew that his grandfather was dead even without his father ever telling him so. His grandfather was nothing more than a spirit.

"I want you," said King Vegita slowly and menacingly.

Trunks was confused; what could want from him?"

"Trunks. Trunks," it was Bura's voice.

He found that he had been asleep. He looked up at his sister.

"You must be tired from that training yesterday. You know, I could ask him to take me shopping, he'll listen to me. I could keep him busy while you get some rest this afternoon."

"You would do that," asked Trunks.

"Sure."

Trunks thought a moment and found that he didn't want her to go through with it.

"No, that's okay."

Bura gave an exasperated sigh, "You're just like Dad; you don't want no help from anyone."

"That's not true, it's just that…"

"You want to prove yourself to Dad," finished Bura. "You boys get on my nerves; there's ALWAYS competition."

"You wouldn't understand."

" Cuz Imma girl? You're so insensitive."

How dare this _girl_ insult me right in front of my face thought Trunks fiercely. Wait a minute, thought Trunks, that was something Vegita might say.

"Are you just goin' to sit there all day? We have to be at the bus stop before six thirty," said Bura.

In moments, Trunks had put away the cereal and the bowl he never did eat out of and put on his hoodie and book bag from the couch.

They could have been going to private school, but Bulma did not like the isolation. She wanted her children to be well acquainted with other kids and aware of less fortunate children. In other words, she didn't want to spoil them.

**AT SCHOOL**

"Ay Lang," said Trunks.

"What's up?"

"Nothin'. Hey, did you ever do that project."

"C'mon, who feels like doin' that."

"Someone who doesn't want to _fail_ the marking period."

"I suppose you're right. What was the project about again?"

"Amazing," said Trunks.

They were at their lockers getting the materials they needed for the rest of the school day.

"Well see ya in last period, Trunks."

"Yeah."

They disappeared into the turmoil of the crowd.

The day seemed to slip by for most children, but Trunks thought the day was dragging. He could barely concentrate on what the teacher was lecturing about; his thoughts instead kept returning to King Vegita. What could he want from him? What did he have that King Vegita didn't? Trunks couldn't answer these questions and so finally decided that it was only a dream and that it was nothing to worry about.

"Trunks, do you have the answer?"

"Huh? W-what question were you on?" said the startled Trunks.

"I _just_ said it. Would someone tell him?"

The chubby boy in front of him who always made it a point to annoy him turned to him.

"Number 22, rich boy."

"Okay," said Trunks with gritted teeth. He just wanted to wring his fat little neck.

"The answer, please," said the teacher.

"54," said Trunks confidently.

"Correct," said the teacher, "Now, how did you arrive at that answer?"

Fortunately, the bell rang and kids had immediately gotten up to leave; Trunks was among them.

He would simply have to forget his strange dream. He just didn't have enough energy to worry about something that could very well be nothing.

"Hey, Trunks."

Trunks had just arrived to his last period and still the day was dragging. All the classes he had been to that day had been just like the first; his thoughts had been scattered.

"Hey," said Trunks back.

They sat on the side of the classroom. Lang could tell that his friend was distracted by something because he kept asking "What page?" or "What did she say?" Usually, Lang would be asking these questions, but the roles had changed.

At the end of the day, Lang asked the question that he had been waiting to ask since the last period class had started.

"Trunks, I know there's something up. What is it?"

"What? There's nothing wrong."

Lang sighed. "You don't have to hide anything."

"There's nothing wrong!"

"Alright, okay, if you don't want to talk about it."

Lang turned and was about to go to his homeroom when Trunks stopped him.

"I'm sorry; I guess I've been overreacting."

Then Trunks told him about the dream he had had that morning in the kitchen.

"You know, if you're so worried about it, you should go ask your father."

"But he never talks about my grandfather."

"Maybe it's time he should. Or maybe you should go visit him."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because he's dead."

"Oh, so you never met him?"

"No one's met him except my father."

"That's interesting."

"Do you wanna come over?"

"Not today, I have fencing practice."

"Fencing?"

"Yeah, it's simply swords play."

"Now _that's_ interesting. You never told me about that."

"Well…," said Lang," I didn't think it important."

"Yeah. Okay. Do you train everyday?"

"Obviously not. Just on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays."

"Maybe I could watch you sometime."

"Maybe…"

As soon as Trunks came home that day, he searched for his father; he almost forgot to put down his book bag in his room. He went into his parents' room and found that Vegita was sleeping. Trunks made a quick decision that he would wake him and went into the room.

His father was a deep sleeper and he always pulled the covers over his head. Trunks pulled on the covers, but Vegita seemed to have a firm grip on it.

"Dad!" screamed Trunks directly in his father's ear.

This startled Vegita out of his slumber and Vegita hated being interrupted while he was sleeping.

"What, boy!" yelled Vegita.

Trunks was beginning to have second thoughts because his father was in an especially bad mood.

"What was your father like?"

Vegita looked at his son as if he was crazy, as if there was no such thing of him ever having a father.

"What kind of question is this?"

"I just wanted to know."

"Why?"

Trunks sighed; Vegita wouldn't tell him anything until he had given him a reason. Trunks told him the same story he had related to Lang.

"If you saw him, there's no need for me to say anything."

"But how did he die?"

"Have you heard of Frieza?"

Trunks nodded.

"He was killed by him a long time ago when I was about you age."

"Really?"

"Really."

Trunks thought for a moment for another question to ask knowing that he would rarely get a chance like this again.

"What would he want from me?"

Vegita sighed, "I don't know, boy. It was just a dream anyway."

"Well, okay."

Trunks took his leave and left Vegita in the room by himself. Vegita knew he wouldn't be able to go back sleep. Once he was awake, he was awake."

Vegita thought about his father; a person he had chosen to forget. His father had never once been 'nice' to him, but it had still been a sad day when his father died. No one had cared but him, Vegita knew. Besides, his father had been a cruel man; a man who only wanted power and glory and nothing else. So why did he care about his father if his father had never truly cared about him? Vegita knew the answer, he knew it deep down, but he would never say it out loud let alone to his father's face. Was it pride that kept him from saying it or was the answer a figment of his imagination? Vegita shook his head; no it was real.

If his feelings were true about his father, why didn't he wish him back alive with the dragonballs? Why hadn't he forced Dende to do so?

He hated all this thinking. It wouldn't mount to anything; he would just end up with the same conclusion as before: It doesn't matter; he's dead.

Just then, the phone rang startling Vegita out of his tormenting thoughts.

"Yes," said Vegita abruptly.

"It's me, Bulma, Vegita."

"Oh, did you want me to do something?"

"No, not this time, honey. I just wanted to inform you that I've set a date on the day Kindrey's gonna show us his invention."

"Another android; better hope it's not like the other ones."

"It's not an android; it's a cyborg and its specialty is combat."

"Same difference."

"It's similar to android 18; part human and part machine."

"Interesting."

"Almost too good to be true."

There was a moment of silence.

"It'll be tomorrow and I was wondering if you could come. You have nothing better to do."

"You scared?"

"Well it is a combat cyborg, and it could go haywire and hurt me and…" she was using her baby voice.

"Alright, okay, I'll come. I knew you would ask anyway."

"It's at 5 pm."

Vegita thought for a moment, "Who's gonna watch Trunks and Bura?"

"I already handled that. Trunks is gonna stay over at Lang's and Bura is staying at Marron's."

"You mean Bura's gonna stay at Krillin's house?"

"Yep."

"Oh well."

They hung up the phones. Tomorrow would be Friday, a perfect day for something bad to happen.

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Whew! Long chapter wasn't it: ) The next chapter will bring Ziggy from Xenosaga into the story. That should be interesting. And yes, Kindrey is a made up character unlike all the other ones.

Just in case you don't know who Maya is: (on the game she's not reallyLang's sister)


	4. The Adroit Cyborg

The Adroit Cyborg-4

"Okay, Ziggaraut 8, you have to be on your best behavior today."

"As usual, master."

"Yes. And when someone asks you questions; keep them short and sweet."

"Affirmative, master."

"In that case, I don't need to worry about anything."

Kindrey looked at his watch; their limousine was two minutes late. The two figures continued waiting in the dark alley. They could not afford to be seen in public. Questions would be asked and their secrecy would be destroyed. They needed secrecy until they arrived at Bulma's meeting where they would make their first appearance in this place.

Kindrey was hoping to make a lot of money from this trade. And money was all he wanted ever since the cyborg had come into his life.

Kindrey was of short brown hair and faded green eyes. The cyborg was of short blond hair and blue eyes. The cyborg was the calm, serious one of the two and Kindrey was apt to quick tempers if it served him, which was most of the time.

Kindrey was about to lose his temper at this moment because of the tardiness of their ride. The cyborg had been with the boy since he was very young and could sense when his moods changed for the worse.

"It would not be wise, master, to lose your composer at this point."

"Don't tell me what to do, robot! I told you not to do that anymore!"

Ziggaraut looked away, it was a worth a try.

After a few more minutes, their ride came. Kindrey went in first following Ziggaraut.

Kindrey was already impatient although they had a two hour drive to their destination. He knew the cyborg was right as usual; he needed to stay calm and not waste his energy on petty things like the inconvenience of the late limousine and the lengthy ride they had yet to finish. Kindrey looked at the cyborg and his normal plain set face. He realized that this might be the last time he ever saw of him. This would be the last chance to ever thank the cyborg for saving his skin multiple times.

"Ziggy," said Kindrey using the name he had used to use when he was younger because he couldn't pronounce his name, "Thank you for all you've done for me. I'll never forget it."

Kindrey received one of Ziggaraut's rare expressions: confusion. Ziggaraut had immediately thought about what the boy said. He didn't understand. Why is it that he was being sold like some slave to people he didn't even know, if Kindrey was actually thankful? He was doing it out of guilt and pity he decided.

"You're welcome," the cyborg said simply despite his expression.

The cyborg continued looking out the window. His eyes passed over the unfamiliar landscape and people walking with a purpose to the destination, over the little children playing ball with each other. He had once been one of those little children, thought the cyborg absently. He had once been a human, but those days had been taken away from him.

"You're daydreaming again, Ziggaraut."

The cyborg looked away from the window, "No, master."

"I said you were."

Ziggaraut ignored the insolent child and looked back to the window.

"Why can't we ever make a conversation?"

The cyborg thought for a moment for a logical answer.

"Answer me," said Kindrey.

"Because every word you have ever said to me was meant for an argument not a conversation."

"What!"

"I have merely answered your question, master."

Kindrey looked away, "Maybe you're right as usual."

Soon the limousine covered the two mile distance. They stepped out the car calmly and proceeded into the building.

Important looking men and women sat around a long oval table with Bulma at the head. Vegita sat next to her waiting to see the cyborg.

"Finally," said Bulma excitedly, "So what do we have, Kindrey?"

Kindrey then explained his offer and how much the cyborg's retail price would be. He then moved on to explaining just what the cyborg could do. In great detail he did this taking almost an hour to finish it. When Kindrey finished he looked at the group of potential buyers confidently. He waited calmly for the onslaught of questions.

"How can we know that what you say is true?"

"You want a demonstration? Alright then, ask him any question; he'll answer them correctly."

The questions began.

"Quick, who explored the Columbia River."

"Lewis and Clark."

"What are the names of the Great Lakes?"

"Huron, Ontario, Michigan, Erie, and Superior."

"5 to the second power."

"25."

"When was the United Nations formed?"

"Near the end of World War 2."

"Oo, oo, I have a question," said Bulma, "What kind of metal is Tungsten."

Ziggaraut thought for a moment he hadn't seen the Periodic Table in a long time.

"Transition metal," said the cyborg momentarily.

After this, the questions came faster until they believed that Kindrey was telling the truth.

"Isn't he supposed to be a _combat_ cyborg," said Vegita who was bored out of his mind.

"Yes," said Kindrey looking at the man who seemed to be an outcast compared to the others, "Pass me a piece of paper, please."

A woman closest to him gave him a scrap sheet of paper from her notepad.

"Thank you," said Kindrey. He looked at the other people confidently. "You will now witness a piece of paper burn into nothingness right before your eyes."

Kindrey tossed the paper in the air. With just a flick of the cyborg's finger, the highly flammable paper burst into flames and then before it hit the floor it had disappeared.

A few gasps were heard and then hand claps. Vegita looked at the cyborg critically. The cyborg seemed unperturbed of what happened and of the applause afterwards.

It was decided then that the company would buy this amazing cyborg. Bulma, being the head of the company, decided she would keep the cyborg where she could monitor it. She already had plans for the cyborg; she only needed to be safely sure the cyborg was capable.

_**Next Day:**_

Ziggaraut stood there beside the place he was supposed to wait for his new owner, Bulma.

"I see you follow directions well," said the approaching Bulma.

The cyborg looked at her waiting to hear what he had to do.

She stood next to him and looked up at him. "So, where are you from?"

"From Missouri," he said plainly.

"I already _know_ that, but where were _you_ born. You are part human, right?"

"Why would you want to know?"

"I don't know; just a friendly question."

"Alright then; Alabama. Anniston, Alabama."

"That's a long way from Missouri. How did you ever come to live there?"

"It's a very long story and I don't think you want to hear it."

"Well actually…"

"I don't want to talk about it," said Ziggaraut abruptly.

Bulma sensed the animosity from the cyborg and she was surprised by this. The cyborg had come off as being calculative and patient.

"That's fine, like I said it was only a friendly innocent question. I came here to test you."

Ziggaraut continued looking at her, waiting. He watched as she pulled out three sets of tennis balls from her jacket.

"I want to see how fast you are and then I have something else planed."

She went into the building and took out a medium sized machine with a tube slanted up on it. She placed the three sets of tennis balls into the tube. Then she set the speed at which the tennis balls would be released into the air. Then she moved back a few yards from where she presently stood. Ziggaraut looked on curiously; was he going to play tennis? His thoughts were proved wrong as Bulma explained that he was supposed to 'kill' the tennis balls before they hit the ground as the machine spurted them out.

Ziggaraut moved into his fighting stance. This would be easy, he thought, but he decided not to get cocky.

The 'battle' began as soon as Bulma had given the okay. Bulma watched the cyborg intently. She watched as the cyborg's blade had changed from its neutral position on its arm and then immediately start slicing the tennis balls smoothly and swiftly. The tennis balls kept coming, but they had never stood a chance of ever touching the ground. When it was over the cyborg seemed relaxed as if he could go on forever.

"That was fast," said a new arrival.

Bulma turned around, surprised, "Trunks, what are you doing here?"

"It's Saturday, remember. I was just curious."

"Well, now you see him."

Trunks looked at the blond cyborg. "What is your name?"

"Ziggaraut 8."

"Zigga-what?"

"You can call me Ziggy."

"Okay, Ziggy."

Bulma took note of their exchange of words. The cyborg seemed to be capable of a conversation which was a very good asset.

"Remember, Ziggaraut, that I have something planed?"

"Yes, I was waiting for you to get to that."

"Well, I have a simulator for you. Once you step into the building, your mission is to save the girl. Simple enough?"

"So it seems," said the cyborg cautiously.

As the cyborg stepped into the brick building, Trunks asked his mother a question.

"How can you have a simulator in such a small building?"

"Simple," she said, "He is rendered unconscious upon arriving into the building. Then he would be put into a drugged sleep. The simulation would take place in his dream."

Trunks thought for a moment on what she had said then replied. "Then how can you see what he's doing? How can you actually be sure that he succeeded?"

She showed him a handheld device with a blank screen. "This device can pickup simulation waves. If the screen turns green he has succeeded. If it turns purple it means he fails."

"I think I understand now."

"Good," she said, "That's a good sign."


	5. The Simulation

The Simulation-5

A large field appeared in front of the cyborg. For miles and miles all you could see was a green carpet of grass. Ziggaraut looked up at the clear sunny skies. He looked to his right and left; there was nothing. Then suddenly, he felt quick rumbles within the earth. He looked around himself again, but didn't see anything different with the scenery. He knew, however, that the mini earthquakes were actually footsteps. Then he saw a shape forming in the far distance. A shadow that grew steadily larger, moved at a slow pace. Soon the figure came into clear view. It was a gigantic creature so large that the cyborg could _hide_ underneath it. The creature walked on all four of its clawed hoofs. The colossus's glowing eyes looked directly at him driving fear into his heart, but he shook it off. It was clear that he had to defeat the creature. He first needed to find a weak point, but where could it be?

The creature roared making even the heavens tremble. The blast of the noise knocked out the cyborg's eardrums making him unable to hear. The cyborg saw this as a good thing; now he could fully focus on the task; he didn't need to be able to hear to defeat such a large beast. He rushed toward the advancing creature's leg with his razor sharp blade. He struck at its skin at full force but this action had almost bent his blade. Ziggaraut tried to retreat back but the creature's leg came at him fast. It knocked him back for a long distance and then he landed with a loud thud to the soft ground. The cyborg got back up instinctively. Then suddenly he knew the creature's weak point; its neck, but how to get on top of it?

He ran quickly under the gigantic creature; hoping to confuse it. It stumped the ground frustratingly making it hard for the cyborg to keep his balance. His plan was to climb upon the creature's massive tail, but now he realized that the tail was constantly moving. How could he find his grip on it? How could he even get to it with earthquakes erupting everywhere at the same time from the stomping of the angry creature? He looked up suddenly when his natural senses were alerted, he saw then that the creature was about to sit down. Its belly was moving quickly toward him; the cyborg was going to be crushed! He ran now, quickly, on the now steady ground to its swishing tail. He barely made it, but as the full weight of the creature hit the ground, a loud earsplitting earthquake knocked him sideways and nearly rendered him unconscious. He got back determinedly and ran toward its long tail. He climbed up on its spiky tail and then onto its back. This is when trouble began again. The creature began to shake its back in hope of eliminating the irritating itch. Then the cyborg noticed that he was beginning to tilt over to the side. It was turning on its back scratch itagainst the ground the cyborg realized. He scrambled toward its belly on its coarse fur. When he arrived, the cyborg began to move toward its neck evenfaster when his position was parallel with the ground. He extended his blade as soon as he arrived at its neck. The cyborg stood up; he was in the process of executing his signature move that no one had ever beforesurvived. Then the creature's neck began to shake along with its whole body in quick violent intervals. The creature released a long loud groan. Although Ziggaraut couldn't hear this, he understood what was happening. The beast was regurgitating whateverwas in its stomach. The cyborg had to kill it fast now; the force from the food leaving its body would surely toss him off into the air and then cause him tocrash painfully onto the ground. It would be a miracle if he could stand up from such a fall. Ziggaraut jumped into the air full force so that only the glare of his blade could be seen from the ground. He came down hard and quick with his own weight of 400lbs. with his blade in front of himself. The blade sliced right through its tough hide all the way to the ground. The cyborg was thrown back hard as digested gook and thick yellow substances slammed into him. Hewas slammedto the ground.

The cyborg simply laid there on the ground. He was exhausted and wondered, absently, about the girl he was supposed to save. Where was the girl anyway? He turned his head toward the large carcass and watched with interest as it vanished before with eyes. It occurred to him that even if the girl _was_ crying for help, he would never be able to hear her nor help. He sighed, one step at a time. He closed his eyes to calm himself to decide what he could do. What _could_ he do?

He felt and smelt like shit. The nasty sticky fluid clung to him and the smell was enough to make even him barf. He wiped the nasty mess from his eyes, mouth, nose, and from his caked ears and then he stopped; he didn't have much energy left.

"Jan Sauer," said a voice. "Jan Sauer," it repeated.

The cyborg looked around to judge where it had come from, but he did not succeed. That voice, that name, why had it sounded so familiar? Then he realized that he was supposed to be deaf. He shouldn't have heard anything.

"Why do I hear you?" said Ziggaraut to the air.

"Because I am your conscience."

"But you sound like a little girl."

"Don't you recognize it?"

"No."

The voice laughed, "You can't hide anything from me, Jan."

"Stop calling me that."

"Does the name seem familiar?" she persisted.

"Maybe it does," he said slowly.

"We seem to be getting somewhere," said the voice. "Who might this voice belong to, I wonder?"

"I don't know."

"Think! Stop acting like an idiot!"

"I don't know!" yelled the cyborg.

"Yes you do, you just choose to forget."

There was a pause, and then he heard a frustrated sigh.

"I'll just have to tell you myself, Jan. I am your sister."

"Sister?"

"Yes, do you remember me?"

"I don't…"

"I tire of your game, Jan. You know who I am. Tell me what my name is or you will never make it out of here alive."

"This is a simulation."

"I am your conscience and I take priority."

"Hmph, what kind of conscience are you? You just threatened to kill me."

"I grow tired of you ignoring me. You stash me away in some dormant part of your mind and completely forget about me. How dare you! I am the part o you that makes you human."

"That is why I ignore you. I no longer _want_ to be human."

"What?"

"You should know, right?"

"Why don't you just kill yourself?"

"Because the one who brought me back to life, programmed me to be unable to do such a thing."

"I see now," said the voice sadly. "So you won't say my name?"

"Rebecca. That is your name, isn't it?"

The cyborg could feel the joy that his conscience felt as soon as he had stated this. It was a strange foreign feeling. A feeling that brought back memories.

Suddenly the scenery began to fade into darkness.

"What is happening?"

"You have succeeded; you have saved the little girl. You have saved yourself. Don't worry; I will always be with you, Jan Sauer."

I love action scenes. I already know that no ones going to review. Not after all these months of nothing... But I have to finish this story no matter what.


	6. Possessed

Possessed-6

Bulma looked at the device in her hand; the screen had turned green.

"He did it, Trunks. He's succeeded."

"I knew he would," said Trunks.

Ziggaraut stepped out the building. She ran up to him.

"So, what did you like it?"

She looked at him, but his eyes were looking at the sky. It was a cloudless sunny day.

"Hey, Ziggy, are you listening to me?" she said tugging on his arm.

He looked at her and realized that she had been saying something; he just couldn't hear her even when her mouth began to move again.

"I can't hear you," he said cutting across her.

"What happened," she mouthed these words so that the cyborg could understand.

"Your simulation is more real than you think."

"Well I can fix you up, follow me."

She pulled his hand and he followed. Trunks came with them because he would have nothing to do otherwise.

They walked into another section of their large backyard and into a larger building. They walked into a room with cushioned sofas lining the walls. A long chair stood in the middle similar to what you would see in a barber's shop. The cyborg was told to sit in the chair and he did so. Bulma walked to a control panel to the left front of the chair. Trunks who sat on one of the sofas and Ziggaraut, watched as her fingers touched the buttons on the screen. Ziggaraut suddenly began feeling short bursts of energy going through his body. Soon it became nonstop. It made him feel almost invincible, and then he realized that this was too much power.

"Bulma…"

"Is it too much for you?"

"Yes."

"A shame. You could have reached the power of a saijin."

Ziggaraut raised an eyebrow not understanding what she was talking about, but decided not to ask about it. "It seems I can hear again," commented Ziggaraut instead.

The cyborg stood back up again.

"Well," said Bulma, "That's enough for today."

She walked out the building momentarily and left the cyborg with Trunks.

"It looks like you don't have anything to do either," said Trunks.

"It's Saturday, shouldn't you be going to the movies with your girlfriend or something along those lines."

"Girlfriend? I don't have one and I don't watch the movies very much."

"Hmm. No wonder you're bored."

"Well, my father, is gonna come looking for me in a few minutes. I'll have to train with him."

"Train?" said the partially interested cyborg.

"Yeah, my father wants me to become strong and skilled like he is."

"And what does your mother thinks?"

"She doesn't say anything about it; I don't know."

"I have a feeling…" the cyborg stopped himself; Trunks had not asked for his opinion.

"What were you saying?"

"Nothing."

Trunks looked at him strangely. "I have to go."

Trunks walked out of the building also. He was still curious about the cyborg. His mother had said that he had once been human. What did that mean exactly? Had he _wanted_ to become some machine to forfeit his humanity? Or did all this happen against his will? Trunks hoped it was the latter choice. What kind of person wants to become a machine anyway?

**Hour Later:**

Even the patient cyborg grew annoyed with his free time. He had walked around the gigantic yard three times and he had been taking his time. Ziggaraut wondered which building the boy was training in with his father for so long. Surely an hour would be sufficient enough for a boy his age. When he saw that the boy was still training, he wondered how strong the boy really was. After three hours, he knew for certain the boy wasn't just human; there had to be something more. He sat down next to a smaller, shack-like building, not because of exhaustion, but because of boredom. He sighed. He had to admit that he wasn't so idle at Kindrey's house. The boy had always had him doing something impossible and the cyborg had liked that. In fact, that was what the cyborg had lived for; the exhilaration that only action could give. That was why he existed; the sole reason his creator had, in a sense, resurrected him. He wondered why his conscience had been so annoyed at him. Hadn't he been alive for long enough? He had lived five times a lifetime of a human already. Wouldn't it be selfish to value his life when he should have been nothing more than dust by now? Why should he act more human when there was no need?

He stood back up again. He always had those thoughts when he was left to himself which is why he'd rather be doing something. He walked around again and came upon the kid, Trunks. He looked tired and exhausted as he should be after so many hours.

"Do you want me to carry you back to your house?"

Trunks looked up, surprised to see the cyborg, "Yes th-thanks," he managed.

The cyborg lowered himself down to the boy's level and Trunks climbed on his back. The boy wasn't very heavy at all and Ziggaraut walked with ease to the house.

"Could you take me to my room?" asked the boy.

"Your…room?" asked the cyborg a little surprised.

That would mean that he would have to go inside the house. It wasn't as if he had never been inside one because he had. It was the fact that he felt uninvited; alone as usual.

"Where is it?"

"Upstairs and two doors to the left on the right side of the hallway. Oh yeah…" Trunks took out his house key and handled to the cyborg.

A sense of foreboding came back to Ziggaraut as the key sat in his hand. It was just a house he reminded himself. He opened the door and carried Trunks upstairs. When he arrived in Trunks's room he laid him on the bed. Then the phone rang. He looked back at Trunks who was already asleep and seemingly unaffected by the sudden noise; the cyborg realized that he had to answer the phone. He let it ring for the fourth time and then he grabbed it.

"Hello," said the plain voice of Ziggaraut.

"Who is this?" asked a boy's voice.

"Ziggaraut 8."

"Oh, I dialed the wrong number."

"Wait…"

"Yes," said the boy.

"This is not my house. Bulma lives here."

"Then who are you?"

"Ziggaraut 8, as I have said before."

There was a pause.

"Well tell Trunks that Lang called _Ziggaraut_ or whoever you are."

The boy hung up and the cyborg hung up also.

Ziggaraut looked back at Trunks. He would be cold without the covers over him. Ziggaraut hesitated but he pulled them over the small boy. When he touched the soft comforter, it brought back an onslaught of memories. He released the covers as one would a poisonous snake. He hurriedly left the room and walked down the stairs and out the house as if it were on fire. When he was outside, he realized that he had been holding his breath. He had panicked he realized. He took a deep breath in attempt of calming down. He looked up at the skies and caught the last rays of the sun; night would follow soon after.

"You're always looking up at the sky, Ziggy," said Bulma who had come up without him noticing.

The cyborg looked at her now. She smiled at him. "Do you sleep?" she asked.

"I could if I wanted to, but I don't need to."

"I see," said she. "So you're gonna stay up all night?"

"For now."

"You're a big boy; you don't have to stay here all night."

The cyborg was surprised but hateful toward her proposition. She was allowing him independence and this was a human trait not a machine's, but ignoring her would not be obedient which was not trait of a machine. All this he thought of in a matter of seconds in his mind.

"Okay," he said.

Bulma looked at him a moment longer and then went inside.

Ziggaraut stayed around the house until it was completely dark, but if he had left sooner he would have avoided what happened next.

He looked up when he heard footsteps.

"Trunks, what are you doing up?" said the cyborg

"What _are_ you," said a menacing voice of Trunks. "Why are you on my property?"

The cyborg was confused. Was this the same Trunks from this evening? "Listen, Trunks…"

"Trunks!" interrupted the boy. "What kind of name is that?"

"Then what do you want your name to be?"

"My name is Vegita. King Vegita!"

"What?"

A ki blast formed in the boy's hand and by the time it was released, Ziggaraut had moved out the way. Two more formed in his hand and he released them at the same time. More and more came, but the quick cyborg dodged them. Then the cyborg was upon the boy. He punched the boy in the stomach, hard enough to knock him unconscious. The boy fell forward, but Ziggaraut caught him.

"What just happened?" said Vegita who had come outside to see what had caused the commotion. "Is that my son?"

Ziggaraut looked at Trunks's father. "Your son…"

"Is dead!" yelled Vegita at the cyborg.

"No…"

"What do you know anyway, robot. I should kill you where you stand."

"What is all this about killing?" asked the new arrival, Bulma.

"This cyborg killed my son!" he said holding the boy in his arms.

"He is not dead," said the cyborg forcefully. "He is merely unconscious."

Bulma was surprised. "Ziggaraut you _must_ have a reason for this," she begged.

"I don't know why, but your son began attacking me. Then he declared that his name was Vegita."

"Did he say _King_ Vegita?" asked Vegita.

"Yes."

"What does that mean?" asked Bulma to Vegita.

"That I was a fool."

He turned abruptly and left Bulma and Ziggaraut standing there wondering what Vegita had meant.

"He'll probably…" he stopped himself. She had not asked for his opinion.

"Ziggaraut, you have your own mind. I don't need to be the one telling you when to do everything."

She walked away also. The cyborg could tell that she was annoyed. She was annoyed at her husband for seeming distant and at him for seeming so immature.

"Jan Sauer," said Rebecca.

The cyborg instantly started looking around himself looking for where the voice had came from. A little girl appeared in front of him. She wore a simple white dress. Her hair was long and brown and her eyes dark blue.

"What will you do?" she said slowly.

"Rebecca?"

He hadn't seen her in years let alone touch her. The cyborg began to think it was a hallucination.

She walked up to him, her sad eyes staring at him. Her hand rose up and touched his face. It was a cold, lifeless touch one that drained the cyborg of whatever color he had from his skin. Her hand remained there and just when the cyborg tried to grab her arm away, she disappeared.

Depleted of his strength, he felt ready to faint. He leaned against the side of the house as his sight became blurry. He slinked down to the ground as he weakened and slowly his eyes closed.

A very interesting chapter I think... Well on to the next one.


	7. King Vegita's Intent

King Vegita's Intent-7

Trunks woke up early the next day. His hand felt the fabric of the living room sofa. Slowly he sat up, his hair felt wet and sticky from the sweat. It wasn't long until he realized that his dad was there sitting next to him.

"You feeling okay?" asked Vegita.

Trunks looked at him surprised, caught off guard by his father's concern.

"I'm fine, but…what am I doing here?"

Vegita looked steadily at him. His expression was sad and this struck Trunks as odd. He knew his dad; his expressions only showed anger, hate, or even smugness because he had showed someone up. He always had to prove himself to everyone even though no one ever doubted him in the first place. That was the pride; his infamous saijin pride was his whole personality. Sadness, forgiveness, and concern were the complete opposite of this. It was only a cover up, Trunks knew, he did care or else he would've left him and his mom a long time ago. Trunks often wondered how Bulma could deal with the front, the concealment of his feelings. He often wondered why she had even gotten married to a man like that. There had to have been something…

"Trunks…there's something I haven't told you."

Vegita saw his son's eyes light up with interest.

"My father was a king…"

"Okay, I got that much," said Trunks sarcastically.

"Let me finish, boy." He looked away to the TV (that wasn't on), "Saijin Kings never die starting with the First One. Each time there was an heir to the throne his spirit was passed down to that person…"

"So all saijin kings were the same."

"In a sense," said Vegita thoughtfully. "But his spirit grew wiser through the passing years. The First One never fully took over an heir; he allowed them their actions but never their thoughts. The saijins thought this as an honor. In fact there were special tests taken to make sure that you were the chosen one and if you didn't pass, you forfeited your chances of ever being the next King. Soon my time came…"

"And you didn't pass?" asked Trunks cutting in.

"Stop interrupting, boy! Let me finish." He paused but then continued. "When I took the test…I didn't pass. No one could understand why, but it happened. The First One had not chosen me. They said I wasn't…worthy. Too weak, not strong enough." His fist clenched at this. "But I was the only son left since Frieza was on the scene killing off our family. If not me than who? Figures though." He laughed; to himself mostly. "The point is, son, you're chosen. And the test, that special test that every heir must take is…to kill your father."

Trunks was caught off guard for the second time that day.

"What! But I don't _have_ to take the test do I?"

"The First King; do you want to know how he was killed?"

Trunks nodded.

"By his son in cold blood. Everytime the First One moved to the next heir, when it was time, the First One killed the father. Soon it became known as a test."

Trunks looked away from him, "Why didn't you…tell me, Dad?"

Tears formed in Trunks's eyes.

"Because…because. Aw you know why!"

"It's cuz you're scared isn't it?" accused Trunks with a tear rolling down his cheeks.

"What! How dare you! I _don't_ get scared, son. I take things as they are. And if I must die…"

"Stop it, Dad!" cried Trunks trying Vegita's anger, but was too fed up to notice. "You don't have to prove yourself to me anymore. Cuz I already know…you're the best dad a son could ever ask for," he said; the words seemed to tumble from his mouth.

Then Trunks hugged him. There were a million things Vegita could have done at that moment, but then he realized it would be the last time…So he hugged him hard, but then threw him off immediately. It was enough, however, for Trunks. He knew for sure that Vegita loved him. He knew what he had to do…

"Whatcha doin? Is Trunks okay?" said Bura walking up behind the couch with an odd grin.

They turned to her at once, "What are you doing here?"

"I _live_ here remember."

That odd smirk remained on her face and Vegita grew worried. The only trait she had taken from Vegita was that expression and she would use it for the same reason as him; she had the upper hand. _But of what? _thought Vegita.

She took out a small digital camera and her grin grew wider.

"What did you do!" accused Vegita.

"If you don't tell Mom what you just told Trunks, I'm gonna show everyone…**this** picture."

She held up a picture depicting Vegita embracing his son.

"Hey!" cried Trunks, "How did you develop the picture so fast?"

"Oh, it's my new invention…"

"I don't care how she did it, you fool! I want the picture now!"

Vegita literally jumped off the sofa, but Bura simply sidestepped and he hit the ground face first.

"Blasted!" yelled Vegita as blood dripped from his nose. "You…!"

Bura ran off frightened for her life. There was such anger in his voice at that moment that she was afraid she went too far. But she had no regrets. This was the only way she was going to convince Vegita to confide in Bulma.

Vegita didn't pursue her, however. He simply held his head back to stop the blood flow and then cracked his nose back into place.

"Dad?" asked Trunks slowly.

"I'm fine…I'm going upstairs," he said standing up.

Vegita left Trunks to his own wondering thoughts. _Bulma was upstairs thought Trunks. So he's actually gonna do it!_

His thoughts took a sharp turn to the cyborg. _Where has he been this whole time?_

Trunks walked outside and used his saijin sense to pinpoint the cyborg's location. He found him on the side of the house as white as a ghost. The cyborg looked dead.

"Fate has its own way of forgiving," said a girl's voice.

"Wh-what? Who's there? Bura?"

"No, Rebecca."

He looked behind himself and saw a young girl of brown hair and dark blue eyes.

"What? Who are you?"

"I am…I am…only a girl and it has been a while since I've been in this world. This may sound funny, but…where am I?"

Trunks's eyebrows rose in surprise, "You're in Virginia. Newport News, Virginia on Rose road."

She nodded slowly, "Thank you."

"Hey…uh…Rebecca…" said Trunks strangely at a loss of words.

"Don't worry. Jan will be fine,"

"Who's Jan?" asked Trunks getting frustrated with asking who and what.

"The cyborg."

"Oh."

At this moment, the cyborg woke up. His eyes were immediately on the girl.

"Rebecca!" cried Ziggaraut as she walked over to him. "Don't touch me," he said threateningly.

Trunks stepped out the way.

"Silly man," said Rebecca," I won't hurt you. You are my savior. You have resurrected me and now I shall help you."

"Help me, you say."

"Yes."

"You should be long dead."

"Is that how you greet your one and only sister?"

"Your sister!" exclaimed Trunks.

"Yes," she laughed. "I never truly died same as you, Jan."

"I don't believe in coincidence," said Ziggaraut

"You believe in logic. You want to know why I'm here. You figure there's a reason. But what if there isn't one?"

"Why do you do this? Read my mind like an open book."

"Because I _know_ you."

Then she looked at Trunks, "Such an extraordinary boy you are, but you are cursed. It is not your fault, though. Perhaps I might help you instead."

"You mean you could stop me from killing my own father?"

"If it be the curse, then yes."

"So you'll listen to a ghost…" muttered Ziggaraut.

"I heard that! I am no longer a trapped spirit, I am a life form," said Rebecca angrily. "You, on the other hand, are an empty shell. There is no hope for you."

Ziggaraut shrugged, he cared little of things that were not logical.

Trunks took Rebecca's hand, "We should tell my father and you tell him what you can do."

"Won't you come with?" asked Rebecca slyly to Ziggaraut.

"I don't follow apparitions."

"Or…you scared…"

"Shut-up!"

"How dare you…"

"I dare…"

"Hey Rebecca, we should go," said Trunks pulling her with him interrupting the argument.

Trunks could tell they were siblings by the way they squabbled. He had never seen the cyborg display so much feeling.

"So…Rebecca, are you really a ghost?"

Rebecca stopped walking, "For the time being; no."

They looked at each other for a second more than normal and then resumed walking. She walked beside him now.

"Let me guess," said Rebecca, "Your father isn't gonna trust me."

"Unless he can come up with something better, he's gonna have to trust you."

"You _must_ be desperate um…"

"Trunks."

"to trust someone you first met."

"I don't, but I figure you're either crazy or you know what you're talking about. Either way it wouldn't hurt to try."

"I like your thinking," said Rebecca smiling.

…………………………………………………………………………………….

And just what does this girl think she is? She obviously has her own agenda and only Ziggaraut seems to be noticeably wary. What will Vegita think about this girl who claims to be able to solve all their problems?


	8. Trunks's Exorcism

Trunks's Exorcism-8

"Where are you _from_," interrogated Vegita.

Rebecca cringed at the hateful voice, but stood her ground. "Anniston, Alabama," she answered with a slight accent that only Bulma noticed.

"Wait a minute," said Bulma sitting on the bed, "That's the same place Ziggaraut…"

"It should be," said Rebecca cutting over her.

"Why should it be," asked Vegita.

"Well," she said, "I'm his sister."

"Right, and I'm Peter Pan," said Vegita filled with disbelief.

"You don't have to believe me," the girl said shrugging.

"So, Rebecca, what do you plan to do?" asked Bulma.

"Exorcise him," said Rebecca simply.

"What? Exercise him? I could do that!" shouted Vegita.

"No! Ex_or_cise him. I'm going to drive out the evil spirit, but I'm gonna need some help. He is a saijin after all. The first one at that."

"True," agreed Vegita.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………

"What do you think they're saying?" asked Trunks to Bura.

"Well, what do you think? About the best way to _murder_ her."

"Cut him some slack, Bura. Besides, Bulma is in there."

"Yeah…"

"Don't worry."

Bura smiled at him, "You're telling _me_ not to worry? I should be telling you that. If that girl is lying then…then you'd cease to exist and our family will be slaughtered."

Bura stood up; Trunks's eyes followed her.

"I have to go," said the girl.

"Where?"

"It doesn't matter," she said as she turned the door knob of the front door.

"See ya," he said as she left.

Trunks was left to himself. The troubling thoughts filled his mind making him wish he had someone to talk to. Then suddenly his friend, Lang, came to mind. Quickly he dialed Lang's phone number and lifted the phone to his ear. After three rings, an older woman's voice answered.

"Hello," said the woman's voice.

"Can I talk to Lang?"

"Sure…"

Trunks heard the woman call for Lang and soon he was on.

"Finally you called," said Lang.

"Huh?"

"Yeah, didn't uh…what's his name…Ziggaraut 8, tell you that I called?"

"Oh him? He actually answered the phone? When was this?"

"Yesterday night. You know him then?"

"Yeah I know him, but he never comes inside, it must've been when he carried me to my room after the training."

"Hm. That was nice of him."

"He's not bad…"

"I wouldn't know, I haven't met him. Hey, can I come over?"

"Um…it's a bad time. We can just talk though."

"Okay. I wanted to tell you something."

"Me too…You first."

"It's personal," said Lang slowly.

There was a pause, but soon he continued.

"Yesterday, something strange happened to me at fencing practice. I felt this…burning sensation all over me, but it didn't hurt. When you're fencing you have to wear a glove on the hand with the weapon. So I was even more surprised when the handle melted on my gloved hand right before my eyes. It seemed to get even hotter where I was; like 200 degrees, hot enough to burn off my skin. I guess I blacked out, cuz the next thing I knew I found myself in my bedroom with a bag of ice on my head. Mom came in saying I had a fever. A very high one…she claimed the thermometer was haywire when it read 322 degrees…But I don't know…I don't even know if I was thinking straight when the pure metal handle melted…maybe it was the fever…but no one knows why I had such a high fever all of a sudden…Trunks? Are you still there?"

"…"

"I knew it…I shouldn't have said anything."

"No, no it's not that. I was just thinking. I…don't know what to say."

"I know, it's stupid. Forget about it."

"You know what?"

"What?"

"I'd sooner believe your story than mine's"

Then Trunks proceeded in relating to Lang about the possession and the First One.

"Wow, such an interesting race, the saijins…I'm sorry. I wish I could help…I really do. But tell me, do you know what would happen if the First One had his with you?"

"No," said Trunks slowly.

"He'll take over this whole world. He's a king, right? That's what vengeful Kings do; conquer. Come on, be real, Earth wouldn't stand a chance against his might."

"You're right," said Trunks sadly. "But why do you keep saying his. It's gonna be me doing all that."

"You really think that, huh? It's not what's on the outside that counts, it's the inside. I have to go, Trunks. School.

"I don't think I'm coming."

"You bet not. Not in your condition."

Then the phone clicked before Trunks could say the same to him.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………

The blue-haired boy sat cross-legged on the warm ground in the backyard. Small candles surrounded him; the tiny flames were barely visible in the sun's light. Vegita stood a few feet away from him along with Bulma, Rebecca, and Ziggaraut.

Vegita didn't like what Rebecca planned to do, especially since he didn't fully trust her. Still he was there, ready to do his part in what was to happen. Though prideful, desperation had lessened it. It was either this or…his death and his son's. Not to mention the fact that Earth was on the verge of becoming conquered and being converted into a warrior nation that, Vegita was sure, people weren't ready for; not that he cared.

Rebecca began chanting and slowly Trunks's eyes began to close. That was the first step. Then the boy's face became contorted in pain. If Rebecca hadn't told Vegita in detail what would happen he would have destroyed the girl for subjecting his son to such pain, but she had, and Vegita had reluctantly agreed to her plan. Vegita never went back on his word. Vegita watched as his son's skin became wet with sweat. Eerily, no sound left the boy's throat even though Rebecca had told him to expect it. The boy's teeth gritted and the boy held his breath. Soon he blacked out and at that moment the First One was made known to all.

"What do you want!" yelled an angry voice of Trunks.

Then his gaze fell upon the black-haired saijin, "Heh, you scared little man?" The First One rose to his feet. "You still have that flaw even after all these years you haven't changed."

Rebecca was frantically chanting, trying to complete the spell before the First One stepped out of the ring of candles.

"What was it? What was the flaw that made me…."

"Unworthy!" interjected the First One. "Look at you! A poor example of an heir. Even Gokou is worthier than you. He surpasses you in strength and stamina. The power and the glory of saijins could not possibly be embodied in such a weak man. You're hardly to be feared! A woman's bitch…"

Up until this point, Vegita had tried strenuously to curb his anger, but the First One had gone too far.

"I don't have to listen to this!"

"Vegita, Nooo," cried Bulma.

Vegita's eyes locked onto Bulma's startled by her outburst.'

"Even now…"

The First One choked on his words; Rebecca had finished the spell. So engrossed in his conversation, the First One hadn't noticed the small candles around him that seemed to blend into the grass nor Rebecca's quiet chanting.

"Why you!"

A bloodcurdling yell escaped his lips. Veins appeared on his neck and his face became beet red. Then he ceased his yelling and bent down to one knee holding a hand on his chest.

"You may have gotten rid of me, but your son is going down with me," said the First One dangerously.

The First One left the boy's body and Bulma ran over to the boy.

"Trunks…Trunks, be strong…don't leave me. Vegita! Call the ambulance!"

The cyborg, who had been strangely quiet the whole time, pushed Bulma out the way. He grasped the boy firmly in his hands. His whole body began glowing soft yellow starlight.

Rebecca tried feverishly to restrain Vegita because she knew what her brother was doing. He had been building up his ether power for this moment so then it could burst from his whole being and into another. The cyborg collapsed from the amount of power loss all at once, but Trunks was revived. Bulma picked the boy up in her arms.

"What did he do? Steal his power?" shouted Vegita

"No, he _gave_ your son his ether power. All of it to resurrect him. Lucky he did it as soon as he did because after a short time such things are impossible."

Then Vegita calmed down. He walked over to his wife and did something that had strangely been on his mind the whole day. He kissed the woman fiercely on her lips.

"Ewww!" said Trunks who had escaped Bulma's hold.

Bulma was breathless after he decided to let go. She smiled and kissed him back.

"Okay! Enough, enough!" cried the disgusted Trunks.

So engrossed in his love, she had suddenly forgot about their son. She pulled away quickly.

"Yeah, I'm with Trunks," said Bulma smiling.

Vegita smirked.

The cyborg had recovered quickly and Rebecca helped him up.

"At least you didn't die this time," said Rebecca.

"I learned from last time, girl."

"Girl!" said Rebecca offended.

"However old you get you'll always be my little sister."

"Really? I mean, I already know that!"

Something of a smile formed on the cyborg's lips. Rebecca laughed.

"Always outsmarting me."

…………………………………………………………………………………………………

A few more chapters should bring this to an end. Finally! So everything's happily ever after, but what about Lang? Can't leave him hanging…. And where is Bura?


	9. Lang's Origin

Lang's Origin-9

Vegeta was pacing. Bulma was on the phone. Trunks was a spectator. There had been no sign of Bura since yesterday and everyone was on edge. Vegeta's initial plan had been simple. Go out and search for her ki signature—if anyone could sense it, it would be him, but after a few hours of searching—him and Trunks—they had come up empty. Bulma had then commenced on calling the police which was equally as useless if not more so. They had to wait an entire day for them to do anything. Vegeta was not going to wait that long.

Suddenly, when Bulma first put the phone back on the hook, the phone began to ring. She answered it promptly.

"Yes?"

"Would Lang happen to be at your house?"

"No, I haven't seen him today. Is there something wrong?"

"It's just—I have a bad feeling. I know he usually makes a habit of leaving the house and going off to random places, but this time he didn't leave a note. It's strange. I thought he might be at your house, though."

"No, I'm sorry."

"Well, if you do see him. Call me."

"No problem. I will."

Everyone was looking at Bulma when she hung up the phone.

"Well? Who was it?" Vegeta asked getting impatient.

"It was Lang's mom, I think. He's gone as well. She doesn't know where he is."

"You don't think it's all connected, do you?" Trunks asked noticing the odd coincidence.

"I doubt it," Bulma said shaking her head, "They don't even know each other."

"First Trunks, now Bura," Vegeta muttered, "Now _that_ has to be connected."

"So, you're as bored as usual," Rebecca commented to Zigguraut.

"Oh, how did you notice?"

Rebecca was more like a tag along. She went everywhere Zigguraut went, which was beginning to get on his last set of nerves. Didn't ghosts have better things to do?

"I sense…someone's here," Rebecca said suddenly.

Zigguraut turned to her then, "What are you talking about?"

"It's weird," Rebecca said looking down, "No, it's not the Briefs…"

"Just show me where and let's get this over with."

"You believe me?"

"I'll believe you if you show me."

"Okay…I think I felt it…"

Zigguraut watched as Rebecca looked around and then sprinted off. He followed after her—it began to feel more like a wild goose chase.

"Alright, stop. Where are you taking us?" Zigguraut asked after a while.

They were close to leaving the Brief's premises.

"We're close," Rebecca said defiantly, "I didn't know exactly how far away, but now I do. Now c'mon."

Zigguraut sighed and then followed along. They were soon within the city limits since the Brief's mansion was right in the middle of it.

"Rebecca, I thought you said—

"We're almost there," Rebecca said silencing his protests.

Suddenly they stopped. They were on a busy sidewalk and people hurriedly passed them by.

"Rebecca," said Zigguraut again, "Enough of this."

"You have to go and help him. Down there," Rebecca said pointing

Confused, Zigguraut decided to go and play along. There was a very narrow alley where Rebecca had pointed and the cyborg soon made his way to it. He noticed that Rebecca was not following. He walked right into an armed robbery that was just about to take place. There were two men pointing a gun at an unknown person in front of them, Zigguraut could not see the person, but he knew that he had to put an end to the situation. Of course that part was easy. He rushed up to them from behind and knocked them unconscious and perhaps paralyzed with two quick jabs to the back. A boy stood before him. A little scared, but more than a little sweaty as if he had been running all day.

"You're safe now," Zigguraut stated as he saw him.

The boy looked up at him, "Where did you come from? Who are you?"

"Zigguraut 8"

"Zigguraut? The same one on the phone when I called the other day?"

"I take it you're Trunks's friend Lang."

"Yeah. How did you know to find me here? I was on my way there—but I got a little held up."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Oh well, if you think so." Lang said walking past him.

"We're going the same way, I suppose."

"Yeah, if you're going to Trunks'"

Lang was stopped again by Rebecca who had decided to show up at that point.

"I'm with him," Rebecca explained to Lang nodding to Zigguraut, "It's good that you decided to come."

"And you are?" Lang asked.

"Rebecca."

There was something familiar about her and Lang couldn't quite figure out why. He gazed at her for a moment longer than usual because of it.

"What's wrong?" Rebecca asked innocently.

"I don't ask this to too many people, but have I seen you before?"

"Who knows. Maybe it was in passing."

"You and your riddles," Zigguraut said, "When was the last time you ever gave someone a straight answer?"

Rebecca grinned at the cyborg and then turned. Of course, this did not answer Lang's previous question, but he did not push the issue. He wondered suddenly what he had gotten himself into. The plan had been simple when he first thought of it—go visit Trunks and see how he was doing. He knew the way. There was no doubt in his mind that he could get there on foot. But of course, today of all days he had to get cornered by a pair of thugs who wanted nothing more than his nonexistent money. Then these two show up at precisely the right moment. He glanced over at Zigguraut and wondered if he was machine or human. Then he looked over at Rebecca wondering why she seemed so familiar and why she gave off an aura of strangeness. What exactly was going on?

To top it off, as the trio traversed back to the before mentioned house, he began to feel as if he had been stuffed into an oven and that someone was steadily turning the heat up. It wasn't particularly hot outside and the other two didn't seem nearly as hot as he did. It was happening again. Maybe this had not been a good idea. He suddenly stopped walking. The other two noticed this immediately.

"I've decided, I'm going back home," Lang said before they could question him.

"And why's that?" Rebecca asked again with her innocent voice.

"It's best," Lang said turning, "Besides, I think my mom's worried about me by now."

"So, you plan on going all the way back home by yourself? You're just asking for trouble." Zigguraut said matter-of-factly.

"And why do you care?"

"Wouldn't it be a shame that you didn't make it back home after I went through all the trouble of saving you? If you really must go—then let me accompany you."

Both Rebecca and Lang looked up at him with surprise. Rebecca, because he didn't regularly offer his services freely. Lang, because well, he was a complete stranger.

"A complete stranger offering to help, huh. This day just keeps getting weirder. Do you know how low the crime rate is in this city? Except today someone wants to mug me and now it's not even safe to go anywhere alone. Fine."

"Rebecca," Zigguraut said turning to her, "You go back home—or go back to wherever ghosts go…"

"I'm _not_ a ghost or a spirit or a soul or some apparition! I'm simply a girl."

"Right. You're supposed to be dead and yet you're here—it means you're a ghost."

"Whatever. I'm following you. No matter what."

`What have I gotten myself into` Lang thought once again.

**Later**

Yet Lang was glad that they had decided to accompany him. He could not have made it back home on his own—not when the heat became too severe for him to handle and he collapsed. Zigguraut had lifted the child up into his arms and almost dropped him when the sudden intense heat touched his skin. Rebecca grinned up at the tall cyborg.

"You knew this would happen, didn't you?" Zigguraut questioned Rebecca.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe he could have died today. Maybe he could have stayed home. Of course, we can't take him home now."

"And why not?"

"Look at him, don't you think it's odd to have so high of a `fever`? `It` will awaken and it is better that he isn't near something that he does not want to destroy. Take him back to his home and he will destroy it."

"Rebecca, start using some proper nouns—no one can read your mind and I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Let's bring him away from people. Now. Soon he will become too hot for even you to hold."

Zigguraut had the impression that something like a bomb would go off and he treated the situation as such. There was quite a commotion as the cyborg made his way quickly out of the city through many surprised people. Somehow Rebecca managed to keep up. After the city there was, of course, a very dense and unpopulated forest. Yet he couldn't stop here either—too many trees. He moved through this area and then came upon a great clearing surrounded by plateaus and hills. There were no trees, no grass, or anything that was even remotely green. All there was were wind and dry earth. At the insistence of Rebecca, Zigguraut set him down and then stood back a good distance. Zigguraut knew Rebecca would shed no light on the situation so he did not bother asking anymore.

They waited for him to awaken which did not happen immediately, but when he did, Rebecca moved partway behind Zigguraut. That was when the cyborg began to get worried. He looked back to her, she shook her head. When he set eyes on Lang in the distance, he was standing. Even from afar, Zigguraut could see the faint glint of red in his eyes. The eyes stared directly at the cyborg.

"He's challenging you," Rebecca said quietly.

"What? What are you saying now, Rebecca?"

"There's one last thing that must happen before the process is complete. You must kill him."

AN: Yeah, I know, shame on me for waiting sooooo long to come out with an update. Well, if you look at my profile, one of my goals is finishing all of my stories…and this is a very unfinished story. By the way, Rebecca is Nephilim from Xenosaga. And anyone who's actually played Legaia 2 probably knows what going to happen next. I'm counting on the fact that you haven't and that this is a nice little cliff hanger. Please someone…Read & Review ~begs~

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(All you have to do is click!)


	10. Galea

Galea-10

It was all just a little too dirty for Bura. The ground was nothing more than dirt the walls seemed to be made from it and worst of all, her clothes was covered in it. Now it was in her hair. She knew for certain that she had smudges on her face. All this from just wanting to get some fresh air. When she had first heard of Trunks' predicament, quite honestly she had not known what to think. Her brother was going to take her dad away from her—she had hated Trunks if only for a little while. It was not his fault, Bura knew, but it was unfair all the same and there was nothing she could do for it. What could she do?

All this about Rebecca—a girl who seemed to come out of nowhere—seemed farfetched. Then again, this entire situation seemed a little crazy. Maybe all of this was just a silly dream. There was no way that Trunks even had the strength to defeat their father. He was invincible wasn't he? So why was everyone so scared?

As soon as Bura had stepped outside to think things over, she had been kidnapped—taken from behind so that there wouldn't be much struggle. They were wrong, however, there had been a lot of struggle but her mouth had been firmly covered the whole time. That was why there was a trail of blood streaming down from a wound on her temple—it was the only way she could be tossed into a car and taken to an unknown location.

"You guys are gonna be sorry! My dad'll see to it that you won't see the light of day again!" Bura yelled out.

Of course, Bura had been yelling such things for over an hour and the threats had begun to seem more frantic and desperate.

"Shut that girl up already," Bura heard a man say.

She quickly grew scared as she heard someone unlocking the door to her `room`.

Zigguraut knew exactly what Rebecca was talking about when the duel began. It was a fight that he wanted. At first the cyborg had been a little hesitant; he was not in the business of beating up on little boys. This, however, was not the same Lang from before. Something had obviously changed. His eyes had an obvious red glint to them and his natural strength had increased exponentially. Soon the cyborg's instincts kicked in and the fight was in full sway

The majority of the fight featured Zigguraut being in defense. Not only had Lang's strength increased, but also his speed so it was a task to simply keep up, but soon the cyborg got into the rhythm of things. Besides that, he hated being in defense, it meant that he wasn't doing anything to his opponent. At some point, he got a hold of one of Lang's fist and sent Lang zipping through the air. That was when it really became serious, but Zigguraut had size on his side. Lang couldn't very well lift him up and slam him to the ground—no, he could not afford to be so direct.

They traded blow for blow, but soon another advantage that the cyborg had surfaced: the fact that he could never grow fatigued. Lang, however, did. He began to slow and the cyborg began to get the upper hand. Zigguraut was not an expert in hand to hand combat, but rather he could handle artillery and most weapons expertly. He did not use any of these in their duel because he had not planned on actually killing Lang.

"You have to kill him!" Rebecca warned Zigguraut again as the fight drew to a close.

By this time, Lang was clearly out of breath, but the cyborg could also tell that he was not going to simply lose peacefully. His breath was ragged yet he stood there glaring at the other with furrowed eyebrows. They were at a standstill.

"Listen, kid, you lost. I don't know what has happened to you, but it would be better if we simply called it quits and we figure out exactly what _has_ happened to you."

Deep down, Zigguraut knew that he would not get a response. Lang hadn't said a word since he had passed out. He was oddly silent. Even during the fight, the only thing that could be heard from Lang was perhaps his breath. No grunts, no yelps, nothing. Lang simply stared at the other with more than a little vehemence.

Zigguraut glanced over at Rebecca who simply restated her previous statement.

"Oh, now you want to act like you have a conscience," Rebecca said with disdain, "What's the big deal, do it already. We don't have all day."

"You have this all planned out, don't you?" Zigguraut accused Rebecca, "Everything's going according to plan, huh."

"Zigguraut," Rebecca said with a sigh, "why do you think I'm here?"

"What kind of question is that?"

Zigguraut looked back at Lang who had grown stiff as if he was locked in that position as if he was waiting for something.

"For God's sake, _I'll_ do it then," Rebecca said growing impatient.

She began to walk forward cautiously, but then stopped abruptly when she moved a little ways from the cyborg. Lang's eyes had suddenly shifted to her and a jolt of fear had suddenly gone through her.

Her head turned back to Zigguraut, "Well, are _you_ going to do it?"

"Stand back," the cyborg said simply.

Rebecca was very quick about doing this as electricity began to spark around one of Ziggurat's outstretched hands.

"Is this what you want, Lang?" Zigguraut asked as the electricity became stronger and more pronounced.

Lang put his arms up in defense and for a moment Zigguraut hesitated, but Lang's eyes looked back up at him with obvious challenge. A smirk formed on his face. `I dare you.` Lang seemed to be conveying to the other.

"Fine."

Intense electricity danced around his clenched hand and then suddenly, the cyborg rammed the fist into the earth. Then the sparks shot up from the ground right below Lang—all of this happening in a matter of seconds.

But Lang did not die—at least not for long. A red transparent force field formed around his charred body and Lang slowly came back to his feet.

Rebecca pulled at Ziggurat's arm then, "C'mon we have to leave. It's going to happen!"

"What's going to happen?"

"No time!"

With another glance at the expanding force field, Ziggurat grabbed Rebecca and dashed away from the area at an incredible speed. He could hear the boy's cries in the distance as he still ran and then a large explosion. Zigguraut ducked and then shielded Rebecca with his body as the large blast overtook them.

"What was that?" Trunks and Vegeta both said at once

They had suddenly felt a large output of ki as they were again searching for Bura. They glanced at each other and then sped off in that direction. A trail of bright blue aura followed in their wake. Vegeta debated turning super saiyan, but decided that it would probably be overkill—they were almost there anyways. It was made painfully obvious where the explosion had taken place as they noticed the clearing overhead, but what neither of them expected to see was Lang standing in the middle of it.

"Impossible," Trunks said almost in a whisper, but Vegeta heard.

"I can't sense his ki now. It seems the only way that's possible is when he physically uses it."

"But _how_. He's not a…he's not a saiyan is he?"

Vegeta crossed his arms then, "I doubt it. _That _would be impossible. He could very well just be human—another Krillen, I guess."

"But Krillen had to train for most of his life to even get close to that kind of power."

Vegeta merely shrugged and the two of them flew down to the spot where Lang was. Trunks noticed an immediate difference in Lang as soon as he saw him. Trunks had always thought Lang's eyes were a little odd, but now that reason was made evident—it had always had a red tint to it and now it was more prevalent. Though there was an unmistakable look of confusion in his eyes right then.

"Lang, was that you a few moments ago?" Trunks asked.

Lang looked around himself as if he had just noticed the destruction around him, "I'm…not certain. I don't really remember how I got here. But you're here. What are you doing here?"

"We were searching for Bura, but then we saw this," Trunks said gesturing to the obvious of presence of an explosion on the ground, "Are you sure you don't know how this happened?"

"I was actually on my way to your house…but obviously I didn't quite get there."

"This is a dead end," Vegeta said getting impatient, "Obviously the kid doesn't know what happened."

Everyone turned when they heard Rebecca's voice in the distance.

"Yay! He finally did it. It took him long enough!"

Not only was it Rebecca coming towards them, but also the blond cyborg.

"Finally did what?" they heard Ziggurat ask the girl as they approached their position.

"You know, the explosion. _His_ power has just awakened. Oh, looks like we have company," Rebecca said as she reached the group acknowledging Vegeta's and Trunks' presence.

The white dress that she had on was tinged with dirt; it was obvious that she had been there when everything happened. Ziggurat, however, seemed as well as ever; nothing had changed in his appearance.

"Well then, little girl, it looks like once again you know something that we don't," Vegeta said to her wanting to cut to the chase.

"Perceptive. Well, Lang is a mystic—a being born with two spirits instead of one. It doesn't occur very often, but lately they seem to be popping up in more places. There's only four that _I_ know of. The extra spirit you were born with, Lang, is that of a very powerful Demon Lord named Galea. Now for most mystics, it's not so hard to awaken their power, but for some reason yours was very dormant and the only way I was ever going to get you to fully unleash it is if I got someone strong enough to face you in combat and eventually kill you. So you were dead for a few moments, but with your spirit you were able to be resurrected just like that—that's just something you can do."

"A-a demon lord? Wait a minute; I don't get this at all. One moment, I'm walking next I'm here and now you're telling me I'm some kind of mystic or whatever. How do you even _know_?" Lang said.

"Don't worry yourself with that. I just know. Remember that fever, Lang—the one that made you hot enough to melt steel, the one that made your mom think the thermometer was broken when she took your temperature?"

"Yeah…"

"If you had waited any longer to awaken your power, then you would have died—burned from the inside out. Lucky I was here, huh."

"So Lang is a mystic. This explosion was a result of you and the cyborg awakening his power. And now I think I've wasted precious minutes of my life listening to your speech. I have other pressing matters to attend to—unless you want to shed some light on that as well," Vegeta said.

"You saiyans are so perceptive," Rebecca said, "Look at Lang, he's still as confused as ever, but you understood and you weren't even around when any of this happened."

Someone must have told Rebecca that Vegeta was a sucker for flattery because he was all ears afterwards. Trunks rolled his eyes—he never wasted his time with such things.

"You're in luck, this has everything to do with your daughter as well, Vegeta," Rebecca continued, "A man named Avalon has your daughter captive in hopes of luring you there. What he doesn't know is the fact that you can't sense his ki—but no one has to tell him that. I'll just take you to him."

The name sounded familiar to Lang, though he hadn't the slightest clue why.

"Well, some call him Gold Eyes, but that's because his eyes are, you guessed it, golden and that's due to his second spirit. The suspense is over, Lang, he's your father."

Lang was utterly shocked when he heard this, "A-are you serious?"

Rebecca nodded, "Very. But you're going to destroy him."

"I won't do that. You tell me he's my father only to find out that I have to destroy him?"

"Listen," Rebecca said, her voice finally becoming serious, "He is a very evil man. Not only that, but very powerful. You're the only mystic that exists who would triumph over him—and a mystic can only be destroyed by another mystic. You're the one who must do this."

"He could change—I could—

"No, Lang," Rebecca said shaking her head, "It's obvious you don't know him at all." Her eyes glanced over at Vegeta, "It won't be like that saiyan over there, he's too set in his ways. He's worked many years to get to this point, but until these recent years his goal has been impossible to reach. Ever since the saiyans came to Earth, Avalon has moved ever so closer to his goal. They are a powerful race and easily have enough raw power to bring his dream to existence. As you know, a mystic is a being who naturally has two spirits. While Avalon's extra spirit is quite remarkable—a saiyan's spirit would be even more so; any saiyan spirit in fact. He chose you, Vegeta because you have a daughter, a completely vulnerable and easy target. She was to be the bait. Once he had you in his clutches he would then make the switch—as in switch his extra spirit—The Supreme One named Igol—with yours. It's a technique he's learned how to do over the years."

"So a mystic can only be destroyed by a mystic, huh," Vegeta said, "He's a very lucky man," he said dangerously.

"On the slim chance, that Lang _doesn't_ defeat him, I don't see how he'd even be able to get close enough to do anything. You could probably kill him over and over and over and over again, but he needs to be destroyed permanently. Not just for your daughter's sake but also for the world's," Rebecca said.

"I guess it's final," Lang said looking down.

"Take solace in the fact that you don't really know him. He is your father only in name. He's a complete stranger as of now and in fact he doesn't even know you exist. There will be no mercy from him—don't show him any either." Rebecca stated.

"What would happen if Avalon really got away with this?" Trunks asked, "If he really did switch his Igol spirit up with my dad's."

"Oh, there wouldn't be a drastic change—it would be very settle to those who perhaps don't take notice in the small things. The only thing different would be your spirit," Rebecca said turning to Vegeta, "Your memories would still be intact, it would still be your body, and most of all you would still have your soul. It's not a hostile takeover, but it would be more like a fusion of Igol's spirit and Vegeta's soul." Rebecca sighed finding it hard to explain, "The soul is who you are as a person, the spirit is the force behind it—it's where that extra spurt of strength would come from; a reinforcement to the You you already are, I guess one could say. It doesn't matter in any case, because it won't happen."

"Enough explanations," Vegeta said. Though he did find it to be very intriguing, he still had to stay on task, "Now tell us where this Avalon is."

"Well, Lang, are you ready?" Rebecca asked the youth.

Lang was almost too afraid to say no for fear of getting on Vegeta's last set of nerves, but the truth of the matter was that…, "I don't know how to use this power you keep talking about. How am I supposed to face _him_?"

Vegeta looked ready to pound the mystic to a bloody pulp—in fact that didn't sound like a bad idea. After all, a mystic can only be killed permanently by a mystic. He could kill him over and over and over and over again…


End file.
